_Lend me thy clarion, goddess! Let me try
To sound the praise of merit ere it dies;
Such as I oft have chanced to espy,
Lost in the dreary shades of dull obscurity._
Shenstone.
With a feeling of dignity and independence which had forsaken me in my
more splendid abode, I took possession of an apartment contrived to
serve the double purposes of parlour and bedchamber. 'I have done
right,' thought I, 'whatever be the consequences; and these are in the
hands of One who has given me the strongest pledge that he will
over-rule them for my advantage.' Yet, alas for my folly! I was almost
the next moment visited by the fear, that the advantage might not be
palpable to present observation, and that it might belong more to my
improvement than to my convenience.
I now felt no reluctance to address Mrs Murray; and to enquire whether
it were still her wish to receive me into her family. One circumstance
alone embarrassed me; I plainly perceived, that I had already made such
an impression upon Henry, as his mother was not likely to approve; and
it seemed dishonourable to owe my admission into her family to her
ignorance of that which she would probably deem sufficient reason to
exclude me. I knew the world, indeed, too well, to expect that the
passion of a youth of twenty, for a girl with a fortune of nine pounds
three shillings, was itself likely to be either serious or lasting; but
its consequences might be both, if it relaxed industry, or destroyed
cheerfulness, darkening the sunny morning with untimely shade.
But how could I forewarn my patroness of her danger? Could I tell her,
not only that one day's acquaintance with her son had sufficed me to
make the conquest, but, which was still less _selon les regles_, to
discover that I had made it? I dared not brave the smile which would
have avenged such an absurdity. After some consideration, I took my
resolution. I determined to introduce myself the next day to Mrs St
Clare, who, I imagined, would not long leave her sister-in-law in
ignorance of my personal attractions; for I have often observed, that we
ladies, while we grudge to a beauty the admiration and praise of the
other sex, generally make her amends by the sincerity and profuseness of
our own.
'And if her description alarm Mrs Murray,' thought I; 'if it deter her
from admitting me under the roof with her son, what then is to become of
me?--What will my pretty features do for me then?--What have they ever
done for me, except to fill my ears with flatteries, and my mind with
conceit, and the hearts of others with envy and malice. Maitland,
indeed,--but no--it was not my face that Maitland loved. Rather to the
pride of beauty I owe that wretched spirit of coquetry by which I lost
him. And now this luckless gift may deprive me of respectable protection
and subsistence. Surely I shall at last be cured of my value for a
bauble so mischievous--so full of temptation--so incapable of
ministering either to the glory of God or the good of man!' Ah, how easy
it is to despise baubles while musing by fire-light in a solitary
chamber!
The evening passed in solitude, but not in weariness; for I was not
idle. I spent the time in writing to Mrs Murray, and in giving to my
friend Dr ---- an account of my voyage, and of my disappointment. The
hour soon came which I now habitually devoted to the invitation of
better thoughts, the performance of higher duties; and thanks be to
Heaven, that neither human converse, nor human protection, nor ought
else that the worldly can enjoy or value, is necessary to the comfort of
that hour!
The next day Murray came early, under pretence of enquiring how I was
satisfied with my accommodation; and I was pleased that the mission
which he had undertaken to Mrs St Clare, gave me a pretext for being
glad to see him. I know not what excuse he could make for a visit of
three hours long; but my plea for permitting it was the impossibility of
ordering him away. He left me, however, at last; and, more convinced
than ever that his mother would do well to dispense with my services, I
went to present myself to Mrs St Clare.
Arrived at her house, I was ushered into the presence of a tall,
elderly, hard-favoured gentlewoman; who, seated most perpendicularly on
a great chair, was employed in working open stitches on a French lawn
apron. I cannot say that her exterior was much calculated to dispel the
reserve of a stranger. Her figure might have served to illustrate all
the doctrines of the acute angle. Her countenance was an apt epitome of
the face of her native land;--rough with deep furrow and uncouth
prominence, and grim with one dusky uniformity of hue. As I entered,
this erect personage rose from her seat, and, therefore, almost
necessarily advanced one step to meet me. I offered some apology for my
intrusion. From a certain rustle of her stiff lutestring gown, I guessed
that the lady made some gesture of courtesy, though I cannot pretend
that I saw the fact.
'Mr Murray, I believe, has been so good as to mention me,' said I.
The lady looked towards a chair; and this I was obliged to accept as an
invitation to sit down.
'I have been particularly unfortunate in missing Mrs Murray,' said I.
'Hum!' returned the lady, with a scarcely perceptible nod; and a pause
followed.
'She left Scotland very unexpectedly.'
'Very unexpectedly.'
Another pause.
'I happened unluckily to have begun my journey before I learnt that it
was unnecessary.'
'That was a pity.'
'I hope she is not likely to be long absent?'
'Indeed there is no saying.'
'Perhaps she may not choose that I should wait her return?'
'Really I can't tell.'
Until this hour, I had never known what it was to shrink before the
repulse of frozen reserve; for the cordiality which had once been
obtained for me by the gifts of nature or of fortune had of late been
secured to me by partial affection and Christian benevolence. My temper
began to rebel; but struggles with my temper were now habitual with me.
I drew a long breath, and renewed my animating dialogue. 'May I ask
whether, in case Mrs Murray should not want my services, you think I am
likely to find employment here as a governess?'
'Indeed I don't know. Few people like to take entire strangers into
their families.'
'The same recommendation which introduced me to Mrs Murray, I can still
command.'
'Hum.'
A long silence followed, for I had another conflict with my temper; but
I was fully victorious before I spoke again.
'I am afraid, madam,' said I, 'that you will not think me entitled to
use Mrs Murray's name with you so far as to beg that, upon her account,
if you should hear of any situation in which I can be useful, you will
have the goodness to recollect me.'
'It is not likely, Miss Percy, that I should hear of any thing to suit
you. At any rate, I make it a rule never to interfere in people's
domestic arrangements.'
My patience now quite exhausted, I took my leave with an air, I fear,
not less ungracious than that of my hostess; and pursued my lonely way
homewards, fully inclined to defer the revolting task of soliciting
employment, till I should ascertain that Mrs Murray's plans made it
indispensable.
How often, as I passed along the street, did I start, as my eye caught
some slight resemblance to a known face, and sigh over the futility of
my momentary hope! He who in the wildest nook of earth possesses one
friend 'to whom he may tell that solitude is sweet,' knows not how
cheerless it is to enter a home drearily secure from the intrusion of a
friend. Yet, having now abundance of leisure for reflection, I should
have been inexcusable, if I had made no use of this advantage; and if,
in the single point of conduct which seemed left to my decision, I had
acted with imprudence. There was evident impropriety in Murray's visits.
To encourage his boyish admiration would have been cruel to him,
ungenerous towards Mrs Murray, and incautious with respect to myself. It
was hard, indeed, to resign the only social pleasure within my reach;
but was pleasure to be deliberately purchased at the hazard of causing
disquiet to the parent, and rebellion in the son? and this too by one
engaged to exercise self-denial as the mere instrument of self-command?
I peremptorily renounced the company of my young admirer; and whoever
would know what this effort cost me, must reject earnest entreaty, and
resist sorrowful upbraiding, and listen to a farewell which is the known
prelude to utter solitude.
A dull unvaried week passed away, during which I never went abroad
except to church. My landlady, indeed, insisted, that even women of
condition might with safety and decorum traverse her native city
unattended; and pointed out from my window persons whom she averred to
be of that description; but the assured gait and gaudy attire of these
ladies made me suspect that she was rather unfortunate in her choice of
instances. At last, in a mere weariness of confinement, I one day
consented to accompany her abroad.
We passed the singular bridge which delighted me with the strangely
varied prospect of antique grandeur and modern regularity,--of a city
cleft into a noble vista towards naked rock and cultivated plain,--seas
busy with commerce, and mountains that shelter distant solitudes. I
could scarcely be dragged away from this interesting spot; but my
landlady, to whom it offered nothing new, was, soon after leaving it,
much more attracted by a little scarlet flag, upon which was printed in
large letters, 'A rouping in here.' This she told me announced a sale of
household furniture, which she expressed much curiosity to see; and I
suffered her to conduct me down a lane, or rather passage, so narrow as
to afford us scarcely room to walk abreast, or light enough to guide us
through the filth that encumbered our way. A second notice directed us
to ascend a dark winding staircase; leading, as I afterwards learned, to
the abodes of about thirty families. We had climbed, I think, about as
high as the whispering gallery of St Paul's, when our progress was
arrested by the crowd which the auction had attracted to one of the
several compartments into which each floor seemed divided. I recoiled
from joining a party apparently composed of the lowest orders of
mankind. But my companion averring that in such places she could often
make a good bargain, elbowed her way into the scene of action.
While I hesitated whether to follow her, my attention was caught by the
beauty of a child, who now half hiding his rosy face on the shoulder of
his mother, cast a sidelong glance on the strangers, and now ventured to
take a more direct view; while she, regardless of the objects of his
curiosity, stood leaning her forehead against the wall in an attitude of
quiet dejection. I watched her for a few moments, and saw the tears
trickle from her face. So venerable is unobtrusive sorrow, that I could
with more ease have accosted a duchess than this poor woman, though her
dress denoted her to be one of those upon whom has fallen a double
portion of the primeval curse. Her distress, however, did not seem so
awe-inspiring to her equals; for one of them presently approaching, gave
her a smart slap upon the shoulder, and, in a tone between pity and
reproach, enquired, 'what ailed her?' The poor woman looked up, wiped
the tears from her eyes, and faintly tried to smile. 'There is not much
ails me,' said she; but the words were scarcely articulate.
'Many a one has been rouped out before now,' said the other.
The reflection was ill-timed; for my poor woman covered her face with
her apron, and burst into a violent fit of sobbing. I had now found a
person of whom I could more freely ask questions, which, indeed, all
seemed eager to answer; and I quickly discovered that Cecil Graham, for
so my mourner was called, was the wife of a soldier, whom the first and
firmest sentiment of a Highlander had lured from his native glen to
follow the banner of his chieftain; that when his regiment had been
ordered abroad, she had unwillingly been left behind; that, in the
decent abode which Highland frugality had procured for her, she had, by
her labour, supported herself and two children; but that, on the night
before her rent became due, she had been robbed of the little deposit
which was meant to pay it; and that her landlord, after some months of
vain delay, had availed himself of his right over the property of his
debtor.
'And will he,' cried I, touched with a fellow-feeling, 'will he drive
this poor young woman abroad among strangers! without a home or a
friend! God forgive him.'
'I do not want for friends, and good friends, madam,' said the
Highlander, in the strong accent of her country, but with far less of
its peculiar pronunciation than disguised the language of her
companions; 'all the streams of Benarde canna' wash my blood from the
laird's himsel'.'
'What laird?' enquired I, smiling at the metaphorical language of my new
acquaintance. 'Eredine himsel', lady; his grandfather and my
great-grandmother were sister and brother childer:' meaning, as I
afterwards found, that these ancestors were cousins.
'And will the laird do nothing for his relation?' said I.
'That's what _he_ would, madam, and that indeed would _he_,' returned
Cecil, laying an odd emphasis upon the pronoun, and gesticulating with
great solemnity. 'He's no' the man to take the child out of the cradle
and put out the smoke.'
'Why do you not apply to him then?'
'Indeed lady I'm no' going to trouble the laird. You see he might think
that I judged he was like bound to uphold me and mine, because Jemmy was
away wi' Mr Kenneth, ye see.'
'What then will you do? Will you allow yourself to be stripped of all?'
'If I could make my way home, lady,' returned the Highlander, 'I should
do well enough;--we must not expect to be always full-handed. What I
think the most upon is, that they should sell the bit cloth that mysel'
span to row us in.'
'To roll you in!' repeated I, utterly unable to guess what constituted
the peculiar value of this bit of cloth.
'Ay,' returned Cecil, 'to wind Jemmy and me in, with your leave, when we
are at our rest; and a bonnier bit linen ye could na' see. The like of
yoursel' might have lain in it, lady, or Miss Graham hersel'.'
I could scarcely help smiling at the tears which poor Cecil was now
shedding over the loss of this strange luxury; and looked up to find
some trace of folly in the countenance of one who, robbed of all her
worldly possessions, bestowed her largest regrets upon a fine
winding-sheet. But no trace of folly was there. The cool sagacity,
indicated by the clear broad forehead and the distinct low-set eyebrow,
was enlivened by the sparkle of a quick black eye; and her firm sharply
chiseled face, though disfigured by its national latitude of cheek,
presented a strong contrast to the dull vulgarity of feature which
surrounded her. When my examination was closed, I enquired how far
distant was the home of which she had spoken.
'Did you ever hear of a place they call Glen Eredine?' said Cecil,
answering my question by another. 'It is like a hundred miles and a bit,
west and north from this.'
'And how do you propose to travel so far at such a season?'
'If it be the will of the Best, I must just ask a morsel, with your
leave, upon the way. I'll not have much to carry--only the infant on my
breast, and a pickle snuff I have gathered for my mother. This one is a
stout lad-bairn--God save him[1]; he'll walk on's feet a bit now and
then.'
Though my English feelings revolted from the ease with which my
Highlander condescended to begging, I could not help admiring the
fortitude with which this young creature, for she did not seem above
two-and-twenty, looked forward to a journey over frozen mountains, and
lonely wilds; which she must traverse on foot, encumbered by two
infants, and exposed to the rigour of a stormy season. I stood pondering
the means of preventing these evils; and at last asked her 'whether the
parish would not bestow somewhat towards procuring her a conveyance?'
'What's your will?' said Cecil, as if she did not quite comprehend me;
though at the same time. I saw her redden deeply.
Thinking she had misunderstood me, I varied the terms of my question.
Cecil's eyes flashed fire. 'The poor's box!' said she, breathing short
from the effort to suppress her indignation, 'Good troth, there's nobody
needs _even_ me to the like. The parish, indeed! No, no, we have come to
much; but we have no come to that yet:' she paused, and tears rose to
her eyes. 'My dear dog[2],' said she, caressing her little boy, 'ye
shall want both house and hauld before your mother cast shame upon ye;
and your father so far away.'
Confounded at the emotion which I had unwittingly occasioned, I
apologised as well as I was able, assuring her that I had not the least
intention to offend; and that in my country, persons of the most
respectable character accounted it no discredit to accept of parish aid.
At last I partly succeeded in pacifying my Highlander. 'To be sure,'
said she, 'every place must have its _oun_ fashion, and it may come easy
enough to the like of _them_; but its no' to be thought that people
that's come of respected gentles will go to _demean_ themselves and all
that belongs them.'
I was acknowledging my mistake, and endeavouring to excuse it upon the
plea of a stranger's ignorance, when one of the crowd advanced to inform
Cecil that her treasured web was then offering for sale; and, so far as
I could understand the barbarous jargon of the speaker, seemed to urge
the rightful owner to buy it back. Cecil's answer was rather more
intelligible. 'Well, well,' said she, 'if it be ordained, mysel' shall
lie in the bare boards; for that pound shall never be broken by me.'
'What pound?' enquired I.
'A note that Jemmy willed to his mother,' answered Cecil; 'and I never
had convenience to send her yet.'
She spoke with perfect simplicity, as if wholly unconscious of the
generous fidelity which her words implied.
I had so long been accustomed to riches that I could not always remember
my poverty. In five minutes I had glided through the crowd, purchased
Cecil's treasure, restored it to its owner, and recollected that,
without doing her any real service, I had spent what I could ill afford
to spare.
The time had been when I could have mistaken this impulse of
constitutional good nature for an act of virtue; but I had learnt to
bestow that title with more discrimination. I was more embarrassed than
delighted by the blessings which Cecil, half in Gaelic, half in English,
uttered with great solemnity. 'Is it enough,' asked conscience, 'to
humour the prejudices of this poor creature, and leave her real wants
unrelieved?'--'But can they,' replied selfishness, 'spare relief to the
wants of others, who are themselves upon the brink of want?'--'She is
like you, alone in the land of strangers,' whispered sympathy.--'She is
the object,' said piety, 'of the same compassion to which you are
indebted for life--life in its highest, noblest sense!'--'Is it right,'
urged worldly-wisdom, 'to part with your only visible means of
subsistence?'--'You have but little to give,' pleaded my better reason;
'seize then the opportunity which converts the mite into a treasure.'
The issue of the debate was, that I purchased for poor Cecil the more
indispensable articles of her furniture; secured for her a shelter till
a milder season might permit her to travel more conveniently; and found
my wealth diminished to a sum which, with economy, might support my
existence for another week.
Much have I heard of the rewards of an approving conscience, but I am
obliged to confess, that my own experience does not warrant my
recommending them as motives of conduct. I have uniformly found my best
actions, like other fruits of an ungenial climate, less to be admired
because they were good, than tolerated because they were no worse. I
suspect, indeed, that the comforts of self-approbation are generally
least felt when they are most needed; and that no one, who in depressing
circumstances enters on a serious examination of his conduct, ever finds
his spirits raised by the review. If this suspicion be just, it will
obviously follow, that the boasted dignity of conscious worth is not
exactly the sentiment which has won so many noble triumphs over
adversity. For my part, as I shrunk into my lonely chamber, and sighed
over my homely restricted meal, I felt more consolation in remembering
the goodness which clothes the unprofitable lily of the field, and feeds
the improvident tenants of the air, than in exulting that I could bestow
'half my goods to feed the poor.'
That recollection, and the natural hilarity of temper which has survived
all the buffetings of fortune, supported my spirits during the lonely
days which passed in waiting Mrs Murray's reply. At length it came; to
inform me, that the state of Captain Murray's health would induce my
patroness to shun in a milder climate the chilling winds of a Scotch
spring; to express her regrets for my unavailing journey, and for her
own inability to further my plans; and, as the best substitute for her
own presence, to refer me once more to the erect Mrs St Clare. This
reference I at first vehemently rejected; for I had not yet digested the
courtesies which I already owed to this lady's urbanity. But, moneyless
and friendless as I was, what alternative remained? I was at last forced
to submit, and that only with the worse grace for my delay.
To Mrs St Clare's then I went; in a humour which will be readily
conceived by any one who remembers the time when sobbing under a sense
of injury he was forced to kiss his hand and beg pardon. The lady's mien
was nothing sweetened since our last interview. While I was taking
uninvited possession of a seat, she leisurely folded up her work, pulled
on her gloves, and crossing her arms, drew up into the most stony
rigidity of aspect. Willing to despatch my business as quickly as
possible, I presented Mrs Murray's letter, begging that she would
consider it as an apology for my intrusion. 'I have heard from Mrs
Murray,' said my gracious hostess, without advancing so much as a finger
towards the letter which I offered. I felt myself redden, but I bit my
lip and made a new attempt.
'Mrs Murray,' said I, 'gives me reason to hope that I may be favoured
with your advice.'
'You are a much better judge of your own concerns, Miss Percy, than I
can be.'
'I am so entirely a stranger here, madam, that I should be indebted to
any advice which might assist me in procuring respectable employment.'
'I really know nobody just now that wants a person in your line, Miss
Percy.' In my line! The phrase was certainly not conciliating. 'Indeed I
rather wonder what could make my friend Mrs Murray direct you to me.'
'A confidence in your willingness to oblige her, I presume, madam,'
answered I; no longer able to brook the cool insolence of my companion.
'I should be glad to oblige her,' returned the impenetrable Mrs St
Clare; without discomposing a muscle except those necessary to
articulation; 'so if I happen to hear of any thing in your way I will
let you know. In the mean time, it may be prudent to go home to your
friends, and remain with them till you find a situation.'
'Had it been possible for me to follow this advice, madam,' cried I, the
scalding tears filling my eyes, 'you had never been troubled with this
visit.'
'Hum. I suppose you have not money to carry you home. Eh?'
I would have retorted the insolent freedom of this question with a burst
of indignant reproof; but my utterance was choked; I had not power to
articulate a syllable.
'Though I am not fond of advancing money to people I know nothing
about,' continued the lady, 'yet upon Mrs Murray's account here are five
pounds, which I suppose will pay your passage to London.'
For more than a year I had maintained a daily struggle with my pride;
and I fancied that I had, in no small degree, prevailed. Alas! occasion
only was wanting to show me the strength of my enemy. To be thus
coarsely offered an alms by a common stranger, roused at once the
sleeping serpent. A sense of my destitute state, dependent upon
compassion, defenceless from insult; a remembrance of my better fortune;
pride, shame, indignation, and a struggle to suppress them all, entirely
overcame me. A darkness passed before my eyes; the blood sprang
violently from my nostrils; I darted from the room without uttering a
word; and, before I was sensible of my actions, found myself in the open
air.
I was presently surrounded by persons of all ranks; for the people of
Scotland have yet to learn that unity of purpose which carries forward
my townsmen without a glance to the right hand or the left; and I know
not if ever the indisposition of a court beauty was enquired after in
such varied tones of sympathy as now reached my ear. In a few minutes
the fresh air had so completely restored me, that the only disagreeable
consequence of my indisposition was the notice which it had attracted. I
took refuge from the awkwardness of my situation in the only shop which
was then within sight; and soon afterwards proceeded unmolested to my
lonely home.
There I had full leisure to reconsider my morning's adventure. The time
had been when the bare suspicion of a wound would have made my
conscience recoil from the probe. The time had been when I would have
shaded my eye from the light which threatened to show the full form and
stature of my bosom foe; for then, a treacherous will took part against
me, and even my short conflicts were enfeebled by relentings towards the
enemy. But now the will, though feeble, was honest; and I could bear to
look my sin in the face, without fear, that lingering love should forbid
its extermination. A review of my feelings and behaviour towards Mrs St
Clare brought me to a full sense of the unsubdued and unchristian temper
which they betrayed. I saw that whilst I had imagined my 'mountain to
stand strong,' it was yet heaving with the wreckful fire. I felt, and
shuddered to feel, that I had yet part in the spirit of the arch-rebel;
and I wept in bitterness of heart, to see that my renunciation of my
former self had spared so much to show that I was still the same.
Yet had this sorrow no connection with the fear of punishment. I had
long since exchanged the horror of the culprit who trembles before his
judge, for the milder anguish which bewails offence against the father
and the friend; and when I considered that my offences would cease but
with my life,--that the polluted mansion must be rased ere the incurable
taint could be removed,--I breathed from the heart the language in which
the patriarch deprecates an earthly immortality; and even at nineteen,
when the youthful spirit was yet unbroken, and the warm blood yet
bounded cheerily, I rejoiced from the soul that I should 'not live
alway.' Nor had my sorrow any resemblance to despair. A sense of my
obstinate tendency to evil did but rouse me to resolutions of exertion;
for I knew that will and strength to continue the conflict were a pledge
of final victory.
Considering that humility, like other habits, was best promoted by its
own acts, I that very hour forced my unwilling spirit to submission, by
despatching the following billet to Mrs St Clare:--
'Madam,--Strong, and I confess blamable, emotion prevented me this
morning from acknowledging your bounty, for which I am not
certainly the less indebted that I decline availing myself of it. I
feel excused for this refusal, by the knowledge that circumstances,
with which it is unnecessary to trouble you, preclude the
possibility of applying your charity to the purpose for which it
was offered.
'I am, &c.
'ELLEN PERCY.'
If others should be of opinion, as I now am, that the language of this
billet inclined more to the stately than the conciliating, let them look
back to the time when duty, compassion, and gratitude, could not extort
from me one word of concession to answer the parting kindness of my
mother's friend. And let them learn to judge of the characters of others
with a mercy which I do not ask them to bestow upon mine; let them
remember that, while men's worst actions are necessarily exposed to
their fellow-men, there are few who, like me, unfold their temptations,
or record their repentance.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: No Highlander praises any living creature without adding
this benediction. It is not confined, in its application, to human
beings. If the subject of it belong to the speaker, this expression of
dependence is intended to exclude boasting; if you commend what is the
property of another, the Highland dread of an evil eye obliged you to
intimate that you praise without envy. To be vain of a possession is
justly considered as provoking Heaven to withdraw it, or to make it an
instrument of punishment; and no true Highlander ever expected comfort
in what had been envied or greedily desired by another.
Upon the same account, it is not judged polite to ask, nor safe to tell
the number of a flock, or of a family. I once asked a countrywoman the
number of a fine brood of chickens. 'They're as many as were gi'en,'
said she; 'I'm sure I never counted them.']
[Footnote 2: Mo cuilean ghaolach.--_Gaelic._]